or did my circumstances change because I'm happier?This inquiry arose this morning while sinking my feet into the moist duff at the base of the tall pines in my back yard. The Sisters--two pines, one Douglas Fir and one cedar--create the sacred space where I do morning Qi Gong and meditation, weather permitting. This morning, because of the recent rain, the moisture softened the normally crackly dry forest floor of needles, branches and cones. My feet could snuggle in and the dampness also increased the pleasing aroma from the pine forest. To me, it's reminiscent of camping.I've been enjoying researching mindfulness and particularly neuroplasticity. Neuroplasticity is the phenomena where the mind can actually change the physiology of the brain--mental training and/or experience has the power to change the physical structure and functioning of the brain. What does this have to do with happiness? Well, if we can use our minds to actually change the brain, we can self-direct our thoughts to create more of a sense of happiness--more contentment. Less discontentment. And this is all without having to change our external circumstances. We would become less dependent on others for our happiness, so relationships could take on a new purpose and we would be less dependent on our external world, so our consumption patterns could change.The implications of this are far reaching, really, particularly at a time when it is estimated that 50% of the creatures on the planet will be extinct in 85 years in part due to our over consumption patterns. This understanding--that we can affect the literal part of our brain that generates a sense of well being and happiness--not only points to the reality that happiness truly lies within us, but more importantly, that we do co-create our own reality. On an even grander scale, this is conscious evolution--self-direction to our next level of being. And, as so many have been intimating for so long, we are the ones we've been waiting for.We have what neuroscientist Richard Davidson of the University of Wisconsin at Madison calls a "happiness set point," according to a 2007 article in Time Magazine. To keep this simple, the set point is the relative level of activity that a person returns to in the left and right prefrontal cortex area of the brain after experience (positive or negative). This baseline is different for everyone, but Davidson noticed some interesting things when doing research with Buddhist monks. The novice practitioners in the experiment did experience some immediate benefit--the area of the brain that distinguishes between self and other is quieted during compassion-based exercises, which can be "as if the subjects...opened their mind and hearts to others." according to author Sharon Begley.

Most intriguing, though, was that the long term meditators had markedly more activity in the left prefrontal cortex--where happiness is marked in the brain, which correlates with a higher baseline level of contentedness. This was not evident in the novice practitioners, which indicates that an increased positive state of being can be trained over time. He also noticed in the long term practitioners a greater activation in the network associated with empathy and maternal love.

What does this suggest for our future when we can generate our own states of contentment, empathy, maternal love and happiness? Personally, if our experience of happiness is truly in our own hands, we might want to get started with ways that can generate these states of being (mindfulness and compassion-generating exercises) and see for ourselves what happens. Also, we can explore what happens as a result of a happier state of being. What have you noticed when you are in a happy state? Does life flow easier? Do your external circumstances and people's response to you change as a result? Am I happier because my circumstances changed, or did my circumstances change because I'm happier?What about collectively? Could this be the missing link to our survival as a species? Could experiencing more personal happiness arrest our fear-driven insatiable appetite for more consumption that has us, and many other creatures, on the brink of extinction?

When I was young, I sat at the foot of my mom's easy chair in the living room. Colorful skeins, balls, and various conglomerates of knotted masses were scattered about on the carpeted floor. In addition to sewing some of my clothes, my mother knitted and crocheted doilies, scarfs, sweaters, dresses, and mittens. I learned to crochet and knit, but what I really enjoyed was playing with the yarn and our cats and unraveling the knots that inevitably revealed themselves either through that play or just the nature of working with yarn around a houseful of kids. Unbeknownst to me then, there were quite a few valuable skills gained in learning how to unravel the knots. The most important was that if I pulled hard on the yarn around the knots, I usually ended up with either a tighter knot or would break the yarn--it didn't take much harsh effort to create a useless mass. I easily spent hours pulling knots apart and there was sometimes an intense, obsessive commitment to unraveling them once I started. Other times, it was easy and effortless--my mind and fingers could easily see what needed to happen first, next and so on, to disentangle the snarls. Sometimes, though, for whatever reasons--dinner, bed, frustration--I would have to put the knots down before they had been dissolved.

I recently noticed in a meditation that the same is true with relationships. Sometimes they get entangled with misunderstandings and arguments that can easily be unraveled if addressed immediately. Otherwise, if not attended right away, the snarls and snags can add up and pretty soon the relationship is in utter chaos and seeming disrepair. I once used to think that I had to untangle all the misunderstandings and entwined snarls that arose in my relationships, but no more. In some instances, I've chosen to lay the relationship aside--walk away--because the knot had become the size of Antarctica and any attempt to unravel it would take years. In these cases, I had to determine if the relationship was worth this time and effort to me. In other words, was the yarn so attractive and valuable to me to spend the time meticulously seeing each knot that has formed and unraveling them? Only I could discern that for myself.

In other situations, I've learned that trying to pull the knots apart with an unwilling partner only ended up tattering, breaking and ruining the relationship--much like pulling too hard on the ends. Wisdom has shown me it was best to just move on.

Surprisingly, on occasion, when I've put a tangled relationship down for a while, it seemed to have magically untangled itself and I could pick the relationship up in a new way, almost as if it were never tangled.

While the easiest, of course, is to keep the yarn untangled by keeping it in order, life inevitably presents our relationships with misunderstandings that at least temporarily appear to be a knot. Recovery principles also remind me to untie those knots as soon as I've become aware of them, lest they create unnecessary suffering for others and internal knots of resentment for myself. Are there any knots in your relationships? Are the relationships worthy of their unraveling? Is the other willing to unravel them with you? If so, in using the analogy with yarn, mindful attention to not pulling too hard on the ends will create the best conditions for successful removal of the knots. This can include:

Approaching the situation with gentle, but determined attention.

Creating space and time for the unraveling to be unhurried.

Being flexible and bending to maneuver through the holes when they are presented.

If the knot is getting too tight, backing off for a time and loosening up as much as possible before re-approaching it.

Looking for patterns that may repeat themselves, as you may be able to unravel a lot of little knots with one simple maneuver or behavior change.

Keeping in mind the beauty of the yarn and what can be created when the knots are released.

Continued attention to the knots as they arise and addressing them at the earliest convenience can help keep the relationship running smooth and allow the natural creations that arise in the relationship to do so more gracefully.

Author

JoAnn Saccato, MA is an author, mindfulness teacher, educator, and consultant in Northern California. She helps her clients and community discover many ways to create the conditions and apply simple tools to companion themselves on a sacred journey, bringing more groundedness, acceptance, clarity, joy, authenticity and values-based responses to life.